


To Remain

by Erubadhriel (McDanno50)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Archery, Daddy Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Gen, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Kink, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Parent/Child Incest, Sexual Content, Swords & Sorcery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McDanno50/pseuds/Erubadhriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The birth of the prince was cause to celebrate but as Legolas grows so does his affection and attraction to his father, King Thranduil of Greenwood. This is their story from beginning to end, and everything in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Live

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own 'The Hobbit' or 'The Lord of the Rings', the characters and general plot of the movie(s)/book(s) all belong to their respectful owner(s). It was not my intention to offend anyone by the writing of this story. This multi-chapter story is Unbeta'd so please forgive any mistakes you may read (including but not limited to my use of Sindarin Elvish from a website).
> 
> BE FOREWARNED: while this story starts off as the average father/son relationship, it does develop into something much more between Legolas and his father Thranduil. If father/son incest should bother you, turn back now or forever hold your peace! 
> 
> Hello everyone, I've awoken from my hibernation thanks to a month long winter break. Ironic I know... but my long slumber hasn't made me any better at selecting tags so please prepare for changes. This is my first 'Hobbit' and 'LotR' story which I am extremely nervous about posting seeing as how I have not read the books (I know I know)... but I do love the movies...and Lee Pace and Orlando Bloom.

            The elfling was small. So small in fact that the nursemaids who helped deliver him secretly worried if he was truly the heir to the throne. The prince was just so unlike his handsome father whose tall muscular body exuded royalty from every pore. The only resemblance the newborn had to the king was his silver gold hair that lay in downy tufts atop his small head.

            Like any good mother, Greenwood’s queen defended her son even as she lay exhausted. “He is perfect, do not you agree, _hîr vuin_?”

            The nursemaids gasped in surprise for they had not heard anyone enter the birthing chamber. It was uncommon for anyone but an elleth trained in the art of childrearing to step foot in the room. It was not all too surprising however for the king to wish to visit his wife and meet his newborn son after hours spent laboring.

            “He is, _hiril vuin_ ,” King Thranduil answered with a smile reserved only for his precious wife and now his son. “ _Agoreg vae_.”

            He walked with ease around the nursemaids who were quickly making themselves scarce. When he reached the bed his sagacious blue eyes scanned the small elfling from head to toe as the babe was still naked but clean, resting comfortably in his mother’s arms. His concerns about the child’s size and unusually quiet behavior went unspoken though not unheard by his wife.  

            “He may be small now, but I am sure he will grow to be as formidable as you,” the queen teased.

            Thranduil nodded because he trusted his queen’s intuition implicitly. “What have you named him?”

            The Lady of Greenwood sighed and returned her gaze to the slumbering prince. Their son’s fëa was strong and unwavering much like his father’s. Still, she knew he would not be a fearsome warrior like Thranduil and Oropher, but a good one. Though skilled and dedicated, he would also be gentle and kind. The Prince of Greenwood would prove to be a perfectly balanced blend of mother and father.

            “His name is Legolas,” she murmured. “Our little Greenleaf.”

            Thranduil embraced his wife and welcomed his son into the world with a kiss upon his smooth forehead. And so began the life of Legolas, the Prince of Greenwood.


	2. To Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas cries, and without his mother to comfort him, Thranduil must step up and be a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, the first official chapter! I will start small and hope my writer's block crumbles bit by bit. I'm basing some of these chapters off pictures I have seen on Pinterest and Google... although I will not post them here without their owners' permission. Be sure to check the end notes for possible links to chapter-related pics ;)

            It was a gorgeous day in Greenwood. The sun was shining and the birds were singing as the luscious trees swayed to and fro in a symphony of rustling leaves. If only it were as melodious inside the palace as it was outside of it.

            Thranduil slammed his quill down in a fit of anger, splattering the ink from it and the well next to it. He had just made his fifth mistake in his letter to Lord Elrond, distracted as he was by the howling coming from within the palace. Although his study was far removed from the nursery where his son dwelled the king could only hear his cries. Despite the distance between them and the nurses sure to be caring for Legolas, the wailing from the babe could only be described as thunderous, as only a prince can be. If his queen were here, she would simply say that Legolas was after all Thranduil’s son before promptly taking care of the elfling. As it were, Greenwood’s queen was away on a trip to visit the Lady Galadriel.

            Thranduil had just about enough of Legolas’ cries as well as the nurses’ apparent inability to care for the prince. He must postpone writing his letter and investigate the situation at hand before anything could be done. It was his duty to his people to maintain the peace in his kingdom.

**«««**

            When he reached the nursery the maids were chattering anxiously amongst themselves. It was only when he stepped through the door and announced his presence with simply a glare did they fall silent. The prince was in the arms of a young nurse who bounced the babe with a friendly smile on her face. The elfling’s wails had lessened somewhat but did not cease entirely.  

            “What is going on here?” Thranduil demanded. He knew next to nothing about elflings but surely this was not natural behavior?

            The young nurse whose name he now remembered as Minuialwen came forward with a determined look. The king almost stepped back as she approached nearer and nearer with his crying son in her arms. It was through sheer will and determination as Greenwood’s ruler that he remained rooted to the spot just inside the nursery.

            “My Lord, the prince cries not for sleep, food, or a changing,” Minuialwen explained patiently. “He misses the Queen terribly for she is the only one who can soothe him when he is restless.”

            Thranduil lifted a haughty eyebrow at the young elleth. Obviously the queen was not capable of caring for their son at the moment, so what was he to do about it? “What do you suggest?”

            Any other elf would cower at his look but not Minuialwen. She gently untangled Legolas’ fingers from her clothes before handing the elfling out to her king. “He needs his father, my Lord,” she said confidently. “Hold him and his tears will dry up.”

            The other nurses stifled their gasps. As far as they knew, the king had yet to hold the elfling on his own without the queen to supervise. It was their responsibility to ensure the young prince’s safety, but from his own father? Surely the king could handle his own son.

            Thranduil pursed his lips, nervous though he would never admit it upon pain of death. There was however nothing else to be done about the situation. His wife was gone and the nurses could not stop Legolas’ cries, so he would have to leap into the duties of fatherhood if he was to have any hope of finishing his work.

            With a great sigh he removed his regal robe and draped it over a nearby chair where another nurse scurried to pick it up and fold it with the utmost care. If he were to hold his young son it would not be in delicate and restrictive clothing which could possibly be ruined by a babe’s natural inclination to ruin anything clean.

            Then he took Legolas into his arms with the ease of a well-toned warrior, or some might say, a loving father. He ignored the adoring looks the elf maidens gave him and sat on a chaise in the corner of the nursery. Minuialwen smiled at the sight before shooing the other nurses out of the room. The door clicked quietly shut behind her.

            The king held the elfling carefully as he arranged his long legs into a makeshift cradle. His knees supported the babe’s back while one large capable hand balanced the elfling with gentle ease. Thranduil was so busy with the task of making his son comfortable that he hardly noticed when the elfling stopped crying. He glanced down and his heart nearly burst with joy and fatherly pride at seeing Legolas staring at him with identical blue eyes. His earlier anger at having been interrupted was gone in an instant. While Legolas suckled away at his own fingers on one hand, Thranduil urged the babe to lean forward to rest on his broad chest more comfortably. As he did so, a tiny fist seized his prized golden hair and held tight. It was as if Legolas was staking a claim on the king.

            Thranduil hid a smile in his son’s hair at the entitlement the elfling was already exhibiting. The prince could not yet speak but his actions were clear: this was his father and he was not letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone can see this...if not, I'm sorry but I tried.  
> This chapter was inspired by the following picture:  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/484348134898691806/


	3. To Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prince does everything in his own time, including when to stand.

            Legolas had yet to stand. His mother was not worried because she knew her son was just as stubborn as his father and her husband King Thranduil. When the latter questioned her about their son’s inability to walk let alone stand, she laughed his worries away with a pat to his kingly shoulder and said, “He’ll do so when he’s ready and not a moment sooner”.

            When his son stood for the first time Thranduil thought it would be a momentous occasion with he and his wife watching and encouraging their son proudly. The first time Legolas stood however, was not particularly spectacular. In fact, Thranduil was busy discussing plans for the upcoming Midsummer’s Eve feast with his attendant Amaniel. The elleth had fetched Thranduil from the nursery where he was playing with Legolas to inform the king of how things were progressing. It was all very dull and tedious work to Thranduil but it was an important event to his people and his queen. They parried back and forth about the minute details, who sits with who, and what foods were to be served and when.

            “Consult your queen with these tiresome matters,” Thranduil said at last. He felt a tug on his robe, but thinking it was one of the palace dogs, he ignored it. “I only care about the security and wellbeing of our guests. Make sure that Captain Nibenon has the details about-”

            Another tug stopped him mid-sentence as he glanced back and downwards to see Legolas. His son was staring straight ahead, past Amaniel to one of the guards making his rounds. It was as if he hadn’t a care in the world and everything was alright so long as he was with his ada. This did not surprise Thranduil because his son had a knack for crawling out of the nursery unseen. It was the sight of his young son standing on his own two feet with a double-fisted hold on his robe that made his jaw drop.

            “Legolas,” he breathed in awe. “You’re standing!”

            Amaniel’s lips parted in surprise and shock at her king’s outburst as well as the prince’s accomplishment. She clapped politely while smiling down at Legolas.

            “I knew you could do it Prince Legolas,” Amaniel giggled once more at her king’s still surprised face. She executed a perfect bow and departed without another word.

            Thranduil was left alone at last, no more party preparations to be dealt with at the moment, but he wasn’t truly alone. No, because he had Legolas, his little Greenleaf who stood for the first time with the help of his ada’s robes. He loathed the thought of interrupting his son’s accomplishment, but his excitement won over and he scooped up his elfling with practiced ease. A quick glimpse downward revealed Legolas grasping at his hair with both fists as if to steady himself; the child did not look unhappy but rather content to be in his father’s strong arms. Thranduil smiled and politely rushed, as only a king could, to the dining hall where the queen sat with the cooks pouring over some old recipes.

            “Please excuse my interruption to your preparations my queen,” Thranduil said with a smile. “But Legolas has just stood on his own two feet.”

            The queen tossed her head back and laughed; the cooks chimed in politely though a bit awkwardly. “I told you my love,” she said. “He would stand when he was good and ready. Didn’t you Legolas?”

            Thranduil chuckled. The Elven King no longer tried to mask the pride and love for his son. The prince smiled a gummy toothless grin and waved his hands about excitedly, still clutching his ada’s hair. He knew the praise was for him and reveled in everyone’s good mood. Seeing this, the queen knew she would never tell her husband that Legolas stood days ago in the nursery. This triumph was for Thranduil and him alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as if I'm doing everyone the disservice of giving false hope with all this fluff... *ominous music*... Thranduil is a good father and while I support every writer's artistic license to make him seem cool and unfeeling, I wanted to show a warmer side to my favorite Elven King :)  
> This chapter is inspired by the following picture:  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/483081497505010631/


	4. To Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas loves to play games; Legolas does not love baths thus a game of hide-and-seek turns into a game of hide-under-ada's-robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched _The Hobbit: the Desolation of Smaug_ yet again yesterday and felt particularly inspired. I hope you all enjoy :)

            As the seasons changed so did Legolas. No longer was he the tender babe who loved to be cradled in his father’s arms, but a mischievous elfling who would not sit still for all the treasure on Middle Earth. The prince’s chief caretaker, Alya, knew of this first hand. She and the prince were playing one of Legolas’ favorite games. He had two minutes to hide within the elfling-permitted areas of the palace before Alya would seek him out. Unfortunately for Alya, Legolas was becoming quite the master at concealing himself. He was much like his father in that regard: stealthy and patient with a keen ear for whatever or whoever approached. Unlike his father however, was Legolas’ ability to admit when he was defeated. Instead of graciously accepting that Alya had found him the young prince would take off in the other direction the moment her back was turned. Alya was embarrassed to admit that he almost always managed to escape without her or any other noticing him.

            This was the situation at present. Alya was maintaining a steady pace throughout the palace while calling out for the prince regularly. She searched and searched but found no sign of the elfling. She knew from past experience that Legolas ventured away from the east end of the palace and towards the great hall when play time was over. For some peculiar reason Legolas tried to avoid his bath time at all costs as if his very life depended on it. Alya did not know why and did not particularly care at the moment. All that mattered was finding the prince in hopes of avoiding telling her king that she lost his precious Greenleaf. She shuddered to think what would happen to her.

**«««**

            “Here is last month’s report of the border patrol as requested, My Lord.”

            Thranduil turned away from the illustrious and decorative tapestries hanging in the great hall to address the elf scribe who interrupted his reverie of times long past.

            “Ah yes,” he said as he took the scroll offered. “Thank you Ionwë; that will be all.”

            The scribe nodded with a small bow before taking his leave.

            The king chose to remain where he was, standing comfortably amongst the tapestries depicting his family history. He unwound the string securing the scroll and began to read.

**«««**

            Legolas ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. He could hear the steps growing nearer and nearer as the she-beast called out his name. He did not look back because he feared he would lose his nerve. Fortune was with him this day as he had yet to cross paths with another elf who could potentially hinder his escape. He did not notice the guards’ surprised and amused faces as he ran past them because she would catch him if he paused but an instant.

            The hallway began to widen and soon he was in the great hall where the relics of his royal lineage was on grand display. Legolas saw a familiar face in front of his grandfather’s sculpture reading a scroll of some sort; the elf was tall and imposing even from a distance. He did not need his impeccable elven eyes to know it was his father. The shock of silver gold hair was indication enough but it was the elf’s stately stature that gave it away.

            Legolas ran to him but did not call out lest he startle the king and the she-beast that chased him. He did not need a savior but he did need a safe place to hide. When he reached his ada he dropped to his knees and scurried under the robes that were a testament to his father’s status. He sat on a shiny boot to better wrap his arms and legs around his ada’s left leg. Ordinarily Legolas was the chief protestor against his ada’s choice in clothing because it hindered his ability to play, but in this very moment he was ever so grateful for the cloth that stood between him and the she-beast.

**«««**

            For as old as he was, one would think Thranduil was capable of just about anything. But it took all of his age-old strength and power to keep from laughing at the Prince of Greenwood. One moment he was reading a report and the next his son comes barreling down the great hall with a determined look on his face. The king knew from experience as well as the sound of Alya, Legolas’ caretaker, yelling down the corridors that the prince was avoiding something. At this time of night it wasn’t hard to guess that Legolas’ nightly bath was the cause of this wild escapade through the palace.

            Legolas did not greet him or ask for help so Thranduil understood the silent request for nonchalance. The rustling of cloth was the only warning he received before his elfling lifted his robe high enough to climb under the fabric where he settled quite comfortably on his boot. Tiny arms and legs wrapped around his lower leg ensconced in soft buttery leather. His blue eyes strayed from the report just long enough to glimpse Alya turn the corner into the great hall before resuming his reading with a jaded look on his face.

            “Prince Legolas!” Alya called out. “Where are you?”

            It did not surprise Thranduil that Alya did not greet him properly let alone inform him of the prince’s disappearance. It was common knowledge to all in his kingdom to not disturb the king when he was in the great hall unless the situation was dire. His son’s caretaker repeated variations of her mantra until she left the great halls.

            Thranduil let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding to part his robe. Alas, the intruder was revealed. His son looked up at him curiously, unsure if he was about to be scolded. He smiled in reassurance at his elfling; he could never truly be mad at his little Greenleaf. “Why do you hide from Alya, _ionneg_?”

            Legolas beamed up at him. “She is not Alya, Ada! She is a wicked she-beast.”

            Thranduil threw his head back and laughed. “A she-beast, you say? Does her wickedness stem from any true ill will?”

            The prince contemplated the question so seriously that Thranduil had to refrain from chuckling once more. “No,” he answered with a frown. “I suppose not. But she is trying to give me a bath!”

            “Perhaps that’s because you need one,” he warned with a playful glint in his eye.

            Quick as a rabbit Legolas jumped up and took off at a run. Both elves knew any escape was hopeless, but a joyful game played between father and son nonetheless. Thranduil threw down the scroll and ran after him, closing the gap one stride after another. Legolas’ curiosity, ever his downfall, came at the price of a quick glimpse over his shoulder. He squealed in delight as his father grabbed him and swung him up and over his broad shoulders. His surprisingly strong legs were on either side of the king’s head with knees bent to allow the older elf to hold onto his delicate ankles. He let his arms dangle uselessly as he watched the palace pass him by upside down.

            “Ada, put me down this instant! Ada!” Legolas tried to yell but his giggles belied his demand.

            Thranduil smirked but said nothing in response to the little prince’s demands as he trekked back to the royal chambers where a steaming hot bath awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew...the longest chapter yet!  
> This chapter is inspired by the following picture:  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/520869513127319691/


	5. To Illustrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king holds court and Legolas is bored. He finds a scroll in his father's study and decides to draw a picture.

            The young Prince of Greenwood scribbled across a scroll he found in his ada’s study. It took him a while to find any useable parchment amongst all his father’s belongings but when he finally discovered a blank scroll he took it without permission. He had run out of parchment himself about an hour ago while waiting for his ada. His father held court whenever necessary but always at least once a week to which Legolas despised unreservedly. He could go out with Alya of course, but what was the fun in that? There were always at least four guards watching and following their every move, and the elleth never let him do anything spectacular like climb trees. Oh how he adored swinging from the branches and jumping from treetop to treetop. But he could only do that when his father was with him. He was told by King Thranduil that a prince needed to learn patience which is how Legolas found himself in his chambers drawing something pretty for his ada on an ostensibly blank scroll.

**«««**

            There were certain skills that came with being king just as his considerable age provided insight and knowledge. There was however skills Thranduil possessed that came with being a father to a bright and mischievous elfling. Such skills include knowing when something in his possession was missing. He had returned from court only to discover the scroll he had begun writing on in a special ink was missing from his desk in his study. But perhaps he misplaced it or even gave it to a guard to deliver to its recipient.

            Thranduil contemplated the scroll’s disappearance as he turned this way and that in his chambers. It had to be around here somewhere.

            “Ada!”

            He turned to find Legolas running into his room unannounced and without permission as was his usual inclination.

            “I drew something for you,” his elfling said with a cheerful smile. “I hope you like it.”

            Thranduil stifled a groan that was most unbefitting for an elf of his status and age. He recognized the scroll his son held by the purple ribbon dangling from the ends. He did not know how Legolas managed to discover the secret letter in his study, but he supposed it didn’t matter now. Anger boiled in his gut but he took the offered scroll and unrolled it. On the parchment was a drawing of himself, he knew this because Legolas had so kindly drawn his dark eyebrows in a furrow with the royal crown sitting atop his head. The king in the picture had a sword in one hand with a victorious grin on his face.

            He looked at his son, back at the drawing, and back at Legolas who was practically beaming. Clearly he had no idea about the letter already written on the parchment. Thranduil covered his face with one hand and let out a sigh as he let the unraveled scroll dangle at his side. He felt his ire slowly dissipate from the proud and hopeful look on his elfling’s face.

            “Do you not like it, Ada?” Legolas asked with a quiver in his voice.

            “I like it very much _ionneg_.” Thranduil replied with a gentle smile. “You are gifted in the arts, truly.”

            Legolas giggled, happy that he could make his father smile.

**«««**

            Later that night, after Legolas had been put to bed, Thranduil sat down at his ornate desk to rewrite the hidden message to Mithrandir. This would take some time but one look at his son’s drawing which was now framed and hanging above his desk made the task a bit more cheerful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rather short and I do apologize for that. I just needed one more cute chapter before I started delving into the nitty gritty. I cannot thank you all enough for your encouragement; it really makes writing worthwhile!  
> This chapter was inspired by the following picture:  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/410320216025165579/


	6. To Grieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The queen is dead and the forest falls silent with grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back from my trip. I'm sorry I couldn't post before I left but there was so much to do and I wasn't exactly in the right mindset to write this chapter. Please don't hate me?

            The queen was dead. A hush had fallen over the Woodland realm as the forest and all its creatures mourned her passing. The prince had not left his bedchamber since the news of her death reached his small pointed ears. He waited in vain for his ada to come, to make things right, to bring his nana back. And so the elfling wept for many moons to come.

**«««**

            The elven king was adrift, passing through the palace like a ghost without his beloved wife by his side. He had not seen his son in seven days and seven nights and for that he was deeply ashamed. He just couldn’t bring himself to face his precious Greenleaf, to admit to his elfling that he had failed as a king, a husband, and as a father. It was not his pride that kept him from knocking on Legolas’ door at night when he walked the halls, but his son’s heart wrenching sobs. He did not know how to help the young prince overcome his grief when he had yet to grieve himself.

**«««**

            “Why does he not come to see me?” Legolas asked Alya quietly as the elleth braided his silver blonde hair. “Why does he not call upon me?”

            Alya’s chin quivered, sad but strangely proud of her prince for sounding so strong when he was anything but. “The king is very busy my little lord, but…”

            Legolas turned around suddenly. He no longer cared about braiding his hair because no one could do it as well as his nana. “He is ashamed of me, is that it?”

            “By the Valar!” Alya shook her charge by his small shoulders. “Legolas, your ada loves you more than anything in Middle Earth. But he is in so much pain, little one. He needs you and you need him, but we elves are a stubborn race.”

            Legolas looked at his long time caretaker for a while. He studied her face and committed it to memory like he should’ve done for his nana whose appearance and voice was already fading. It had been a month since the queen’s passing and while the realm was slowly healing he felt just as fragile as the day it happened.

            “The guards have refused to answer my inquiries about him,” Legolas said slowly. “Perhaps I should visit him.”

            Alya bit back a despairing sigh, opting for an encouraging smile instead. The guards posted to the throne room where the king spent most of his time as of late were wary of visitors. The prince was no exception by orders of Thranduil himself.  The guards would not let Legolas inside if they valued their lives but Alya was determined to aid her charge in any way possible.

**«««**

            Thranduil sat upon his antlered throne in all his splendid glory. He looked the part of Greenwood’s ruler with his noble clothing, extravagant jewels, and impressive crown. An uninformed bystander would think him behaving as any ancient elven king would: jaded and uninterested. With his royal duties limited on account of the queen’s death, his trustworthy advisors handled most matters regarding the realm while he skulked about the palace in a daze. He loved his wife truly and deeply; he was at a loss without her beauty and grace in his life. With only his morose thoughts for company he sat, one leg crossed, chin propped against his closed fist in a most unbefitting sprawl on his throne.

            While he contemplated matters regarding his realm and most certainly not his late beloved, Thranduil nearly missed the commotion going on below. He did not lift his gaze or call out but waited and listened.

            “He’s the king’s son! Surely King Thranduil can spare a few moments…”

            Ah, so it was Alya, his son’s caretaker, come to beg him to visit Legolas. She was not the first to mention the prince but he could not give her what he did not have: courage. He did not bother listening to his guard’s reply. He very nearly called out, to let Alya see how ravaged he truly was so that she might explain to Legolas that he was in no shape to be comforting anybody. As cruel as it was, he feared he might shatter into pieces at the sight of his little Greenleaf. For his son to realize his uselessness–

            The shouts of his guards demanded his attention just before the patter of little feet met his ear and his eyes locked with those of his son’s. Legolas had slipped between the guards as they argued with Alya, and run up to his father who could do nothing but stare. The elfling looked so much like his mother, his elfling that he had abandoned in his sorrow. The prince hopped onto his lap, facing outward as he did, using one hand to steady himself on the throne while its twin made a desperate fist in Thranduil’s cloth covered arm.

            The king could not speak for a moment, not trusting his voice to hold firm. He did not look at the guards or Alya who had run after the prince but waved them away with a hand. It was high time he answered to his son after his awful transgressions.

            “Legolas?” Thranduil asked quietly. His voice was steady but wavering each moment his son remained in his lap. “What are you doing?”

            His son did not turn to face him. He slouched backwards a bit so that he rested a bit more comfortably against his chest. “You once told me that a king must never cry. So I’m going to be the king for a while so that you may grieve for nana.”

            For his many years on Middle Earth, Thranduil can count on one hand how many times he has been shocked speechless. This was one of them and a moment he would treasure for the rest of his days as unbidden tears sprung to his icy eyes. When did his elfling grow wiser than he?

            He crushed his son to his chest, curling inward on himself so that his face was buried in Legolas’ soft, sweet smelling hair. The kiss to his elfling’s head lingered as his lips began to tremble with restraint, grief, and happiness simultaneously.

**«««**

            “ _Goheno nin_ , Legolas,” he heard his father whisper. “My little Greenleaf.”

            Legolas smiled although no one could see it. “ _Gi melin,_ Ada _._ ”

            They would get through this together. Surely there would be difficult times and more pain to come in their long lives. Even so, it was the first and last time he saw his father cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the following picture:  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/430797520579946387/
> 
> Sindarin Elvish used in this chapter:  
> goheno nin- forgive me  
> gi melin- I love you


	7. To Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after the queen's death finds Legolas and Thranduil visiting the river post where glittering treasure awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how hard it was to write this chapter with *THIS* in your brain?  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYmwnHJ9sWA&index=1&list=FL1DMevwQzEqE2zfX689xETg

            It has been ten years since the queen’s death. While Legolas has grown accustomed to his mother’s absence, he does not love her any less. He has his father, King Thranduil, to keep him company most days. Today was one of those days as the tenth anniversary of the queen’s passing was not sorrowful but a glad remembrance of the life she led.

            While the night’s feast was being prepared in her honor, Legolas and his father visited the guards posted at the river gates just before the rapids. Thranduil had said that reports are all well and good but sometimes a king needs to review matters personally. Legolas agreed with his sovereign’s reasoning as a prince but as a son he knew better. His father did not want to be indoors today with cruel reminders of his wife lurking around every corner of the palace. He had decided the night before to stay by his ada’s side until the anniversary was over even if it meant a tedious day full of politics.  

            As the older elves stood discussing security protocols amidst tonight’s gathering, Legolas walked the length of the stone bridge. Back and forth he went with measured steps all the while keeping a wary eye on the trees that swayed enticingly with the breeze. Legolas was so incredibly uninterested by the party talk that he began to play.

            He did not go far as his father warned him of venturing away from his elven sight. He pretended he was a part of his father’s elite guard, brandishing the golden armor signifying his status as captain. In his mind he wielded fake swords though he lamented his very real bow. His father believed him ready for weapons training and Legolas couldn’t agree more, but what warrior forgot his new weapon in his bedchambers? Should anything happen outside the palace he could not very well protect his king with fake swords. Even so, the river sentinels stood beside his father as two other guards in attendance waited on shore.

            A sparkle caught his eye as he swung his faux blades this way and that. He quickly killed the invisible orcs he was fighting before sheathing his toys to better investigate. He walked farther away from his ada to where a tree stood so large and old that its foliage canopied the stone bridge. His blue eyes scanned the tree from the ground below to the leaves above where a lone branch jutted out from the solid trunk. Tied to the branch was the sparkle that had caught his attention: a piece of jewelry it looked like, with its suspicious shine and voluptuous dangle. It would make a perfect gift for his father so long as no one claimed it first.

            The tree’s trunk was tall and sturdy but lacked any real footholds Legolas could use to climb. This left one other option: climb the stone barricade over the rapids and climb onto the branch that way. He was confident in his climbing abilities; after all, his name meant Greenleaf, surely he could climb up a stone bridge.

**«««**

            Thranduil sighed in contentment as he felt the breeze whip the hair from his tired eyes. He had forgotten the peaceful tranquility of being outside the palace where nature took its course however she pleased. As he listened to the guards discussing patrols for tonight’s feast he also listened to the river below where the water sloshed through the metal gates and over the small hill where it transformed into a raging rapid. The serene sound of the waves were a contradiction in his mind for the violence they possessed could very well lull one into a false sense of security.

**«««**

            Legolas beamed with pride as he stood taller than his father for the first time in his life. Of course he stood above most of Middle Earth’s creatures by using the stone bridge balustrade as a means to an end. On his tiptoes he very nearly reached the glittering treasure swaying in front of him so invitingly, fingertips mere centimeters away from the jewelry he so desired. On one foot he leaned over the river further; his elven blood afforded him with natural balance and grace. He did not stop to wonder why or how the jewelry got to where it did so long as he rescued it from the pesky branch.

            Just as his fist clenched around the jeweled piece, a violent draft swept up the stone bridge right through Legolas’ tunic. It took only a split second for him to lose his focus as his boot slipped across the edge of wet stone. A shiver ran through his body, not from the cold but the loud desperate shout from Lairion, his favorite sentinel amongst his father’s personal guard.

            “Prince Legolas!”

            In a panic, the blood rushed through his ears as his heartbeat mimicked the rush of waves below. He reached out for the branch in one last desperate attempt to catch himself but alas the giant tree betrayed its prince. He manages to turn around mid-fall where the king’s terrified gaze meets his. The wild look in his father’s eyes was sure to haunt Legolas forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks cliff-hanger...now all of my readers hate me :(


	8. To Drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas is trapped in the swirling vortex that is the raging rapids. Will his father be able to save him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day. I had the second chapter nearly finished after I posted the previous one but I felt villainous :)

            It was a hot summer day with a cooling breeze. Legolas wishes he would have appreciated the weather before falling into the raging river. The water was cold but not unbearably so. In fact, he might once have thought it pleasant had it not been for the massive waves tossing his small elfling body to and fro as if it were a game. When he fell his mouth was open in a silent scream and he hadn’t quite managed to close it. The water shot past his lips without a care for the choking sensation it wrought in its aggressive wake. The struggle to keep his head above water was made all the more difficult by the jagged boulders hidden in the weaving river path. If he made it out of this river alive he was sure to have cuts and bruises perhaps even broken bones.

            Despite the terror waging war throughout his body Legolas felt his mind begin to drift. He worried not for himself but for the wise old king who had just begun to heal after his beloved wife’s death. What would happen if he died? Would his father be able to move on? Who would step up to be king so that his ada could cry?

            These were his thoughts as the river tried to swallow him whole.

**«««**

            Contrary to popular elven belief, Thranduil has felt fear. He was afraid for his people during the Second Age as the War of the Last Alliance begun. He was frightened when he lost sight of his father Oropher during the battle between good and evil. He was scared when the title of king passed on to him just like the crown placed on his head. And most of all, he was downright terrified when his wife died because what of Legolas? What of their son who was too young to be without a mother? An elfling should never know the pain that came with the loss of a parent.

            These past experiences were nothing to what Thranduil felt now. It was in this instant, having witnessed his son’s fall from the very dam built to protect, that became the worst moment of his long life. Paralyzing fear crept through his veins but his blood ran hot with desperation.

            He shed his regal robe like the second skin of a snake. The material was lightweight and easy to remove thanks to its design; it was solely created for the outdoors when the summer heat would sometimes force even the king to dress down. Left in a fitted broadcloth shirt and velvet soft leggings, Thranduil pushed his way past the stunned guards and leapt over the stone balustrade onto the narrow path parallel to the river. His knees didn’t even feel the impact as he ran as if his life depended on it and in a way it did for without Legolas he was nothing. His riches, his palace, his kingdom meant nothing to him without his precious son by his side.

            Distantly he heard his guards’ quiet footsteps following him as he knew they would. They took the easy route, safer with its larger pathway and smaller obstacles. Thranduil on the other hand couldn’t care less about safe and easy, not when he finally spotted Legolas. And so he jumped over toothed rocks, plowed through thorn bushes, and darted around tree trunks so he would not lose sight of the tiny golden head bobbing through the river’s waves. His heart stopped each time Legolas’ head went underwater only to beat out a staccato rhythm when his son’s face resurfaced.

            Thranduil could see his elfling tiring of the harrowing journey down the rapids. Over the violent sound of waves, panicked breaths, and beating hearts, he wasn’t sure if his son could hear him. He called out for him anyway in hopes of encouraging his Greenleaf to never give up.

            “Legolas!” Thranduil shouted desperately. “Legolas, keep your head up son!”

            In reality Thranduil did not doubt his son’s stubborn ability to cheat death. It was the river that worried him as well as the self-doubt swelling in his gut. He knew of a fallen log just around the river’s bend where he would be able to reach his elfling. A potential problem lay within the narrowing of the water’s passage amongst rocks and outstretched branches. If Thranduil missed this chance he would lose his son over the waterfall where even his hard-earned skill could not follow.

**«««**

            _“Legolas! Legolas, keep your head up son!”_

He thought he could hear his father yelling, calling out to him, but how? He has long since been swept away from the bridge where the king and his guards remained. His ada sounded frantic and inexplicably anxious. Legolas had lost count how many times his world has been turned upside down by the violent current. The light shining down from the sky was the only way he could tell which way was up. The voice of his father seemed to be right alongside him if but a few yards away.

            When his head broke free of the water’s surface he turned to the shore where the trees whipped past at blinding speed. He didn’t see anything concrete at first, the spray of the water stinging his eyes, until…there!

            His father’s considerable figure cut across the line of trees until Legolas could see him clear as day, racing along the small path made by the forest animals. He had never seen his father move so swiftly, so fast it looked as if he would take flight. The king’s guards followed close behind but neither could keep up. Warmth blossomed inside Legolas’ belly; he could very well perish in these waters yet he was strangely at peace with the idea. He did not want to say goodbye to his ada, his friends, and the other elves he has come to know and love. He did not want to struggle either. It would be so easy to just close his eyes and let the current take him, the water drown him, until he sees naught but darkness.

            The king’s commanding tone, certainly not his ada’s gentle voice, startled him back into consciousness. “Don’t give up Legolas!” he yelled. “Put your hands up!”

            Legolas smiled around the violent coughs that wracked his small frame. Determined to see his ada again, his hands breach the surface even as the water tried to pull him back down. He spread his fingers wide, feeling like a bird as the current helped him fly. Legolas had no idea what his ada had planned but he trusted him to the ends of Middle Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me, but I do have to eat and sleep sometime.

**Author's Note:**

> hîr vuin – my lord  
> hiril vuin – my lady  
> agoreg vae – you did well  
> Ionneg – my son


End file.
